


Command

by RoseAlenko



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, One-Shot, Smut, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 20:44:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11836719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseAlenko/pseuds/RoseAlenko
Summary: Her husband is ordinarily a dear, sweet man. On most nights he buries his face between her thighs and kisses her there, slow and soft until she’s satisfied several times over. Afterward, he moves gently inside her, looking into her eyes as if their violet depths are the only thing keeping him anchored to the earth. And Dany is grateful, eager to return his loving attention with every part of her.But sometimes when she strokes Jon’s ire she can see the dragon in him and, well, she’s grateful for that, too.





	Command

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! This fic is a response to this prompt I received on tumblr:
> 
> "Headcannon: So, let's imagine that Dany and jon consented on a wedding alliance, to keep jon as a king. And then they are on a council of the north, and Dany makes a impulsive decision (nothing mad) that low jon's authority. And then, later, they argue and make a savagesexpeace. How it would be? If you're up for smut asks ;p"
> 
> Enjoy :)

“Obstinate woman,” he hisses, close at her ear so she can feel the wet heat of his breath against her face. “Must you  _always_  get your way?”

Dany bites her lip between her teeth, turning in Jon’s arms to face him. “You should know the answer to that by now _._ ”

He scoffs, and his hands are almost painfully forceful on her hips as he spins her around so her back is to him. They’re finally alone at the high table in Winterfell’s Great Hall and Dany knows where this is going, knows what to expect when Jon’s in one of these rare moods. And her pulse is pounding with the illicit thrill of doing this  _here_ , where anyone could find them. 

Jon trails a hand up from her hip to her neck, the rough pads of his fingertips ghosting across her flesh before he knots his hand in her hair. His grip is so tight her scalp burns but Dany doesn’t dare pull away. Instead she tilts her head back to find Jon’s lips as they crash against hers. 

He’s greedy and urgent tonight, sucking the hot slick of her tongue into his mouth, and Dany can’t help but sigh out her pleasure, pushing back against him until she can feel the hard line of his arousal behind her. It feels good, knowing how much he wants her, and she circles her bum wantonly, teasingly against him.

Jon groans in response, breaking away from the kiss. “It’s a crime to defy your king,” he reminds her, his breath ragged. But the authoritative edge in his voice is there all the same and Dany can feel desire coiling tightly in the pit of her stomach. 

“Are you going to punish me,  _Your Grace_?” she asks innocently, flashing a demure smile over her shoulder.

Jon gapes at her for a moment, his eyes so dark they’re nearly black. “ _Yes_.”

He shoves her forward until her hips collide with the table and his hand in her hair urges her down so she’s bent over the surface, bracing herself with her palms flat on the polished wood. 

Dany licks her lips in anticipation, spreading her legs willingly when Jon wiggles a knee between them. 

Her husband is ordinarily a dear, sweet man. On most nights he buries his face between her thighs and kisses her there, slow and soft until she’s satisfied several times over. Afterward, he moves gently inside her, looking into her eyes as if their violet depths are the only thing keeping him anchored to the earth. And Dany is grateful, eager to return his loving attention with every part of her.

But sometimes when she strokes Jon’s ire she can see the  _dragon_ in him and, well, she’s grateful for  _that_  too. 

She hears the clink of Jon’s belt behind her as he unbuckles it and unlaces his pants. A squeal escapes her when he hikes her skirts up around her waist, yanking her breeches hastily down so  she steps out of them. By the time he removes the glove from his right hand and drops it to the floor Dany is fidgeting with expectation. 

“ _This_  is the only thing I need your permission for, Dany _,”_ he murmurs, his voice low and husky as he presses his hand into the juncture of her thighs. She sucks in a breath at the contact, widening her stance to welcome his touch. 

Jon complies at first, sliding his fingertips along the wet folds of her before dipping inside. He sets a fast pace, crooking his fingers the way he knows she likes. 

It doesn’t take long for Dany’s breath to quicken, sweat breaking out across her brow. She relaxes some of her weight against Jon’s hand, willing him to go deeper still. But just as she’s about to reach the peak of her pleasure he suddenly withdraws his fingers and she huffs in exasperation, moving to stand upright and face him.

“ _No_ ,” he orders. “You don’t get what you want, My Queen. Not yet.”

Dany purses her lips together, a hot wave of defiance washing over her to rival her lust. But before she can respond one of Jon’s hands finds her hip as the other snakes around in front of her, pulling her to him.

Jon slides inside smoothly, easily, and his sharp exhale mirrors Dany’s. No amount of anger can obscure the delicious fullness of him inside her and she moans in spite of herself, rocking back against him.

He chuckles throatily at her desperation, matching her rhythm and driving into her deeply, quickly. Jon’s fingers hone in on her favorite spot and he rubs her in small, tight circles.

Dany wants to cry out, to tell him that  _yes_ , that’s good.  _Very_  good, perfect in fact. But she won’t give him the satisfaction. Not just now. So she bites her tongue and thrusts back to meet Jon with every snap of his hips, her fingernails clawing at the table as he pounds her against it again, again. Finally the pleasure is so strong and immediate that Dany feels her release at hand, and then—

He’s gone, dropping his hands and stepping back until he isn’t touching her at all. Dany pushes up from the table, frustrated beyond reason, wheeling to face Jon with rage in her eyes. She flies at him but he’s ready for her, catching her by the arms and holding her back.

One glance down is all it takes to tell her that he’s no more satisfied than she is and Dany can’t help but marvel at his self-control—her own having gone right out the window the moment he touched her.

“We’re not through yet,” he insists, pulling a chair out from the table and pressing Dany back into it.

He drops to his knees before her, lifting up her skirts again and urging her knees apart. Dany reluctantly surrenders to his will, scooting to the chair’s edge and tangling her fingers in his hair when he tips forward to put his mouth on her.

His short-cropped beard scratches against her thighs as he kisses her hard between them. The act destroys her restraint as it always does, for Jon’s talent with his mouth somehow exceeds even his skill at swordplay. The press of his lips and the flick of his tongue have her teetering on the edge of her release, and soon Dany is gasping out his name, praising him and cursing him and begging him never to stop.

Of course, Jon does exactly that, pulling away from her with a smug grin on his handsome face, his chin glistening from his exertions between her legs. Dany reaches the limit of her patience and sits up in the chair, shoving at Jon’s shoulders with all her strength until he falls backward on the cold stone floor.

“Dany—,” he begins, but she slips quickly from her seat and straddles him on the ground, sinking onto his length.

Jon groans at the tight squeeze of her around him, the protest dying on his lips. Dany leans forward, balancing over him with the heels of her hands against his shoulders as she rolls her hips. This is where she likes to be: in control, riding him so hard that his eyes go cloudy, claiming her own pleasure even as she shares it with Jon. Dany tosses her head back and sighs contentedly at the sensation as his cock finds her center with every rise and fall.

But then, with a grunt of effort Jon pushes away from the floor until he’s sitting upright, his hands settling on her hips to guide her motions. When Dany finds his eyes she sees none of the single-minded dominance that was there before. Instead Jon’s gaze holds the familiar passionate tenderness that makes her heart flutter in her chest.

They move in perfect harmony and Dany clutches him close as she bounces in his lap, locking her eyes on his. She can see him reaching the height of his own pleasure when she cums at long last, Jon muffling her cries with a kiss as he finds his own release inside her.

Dany stays like that for a while, boneless and breathless, peaceful in his embrace. Jon’s body is warm, like the fire in his eyes when he speaks up, still a little winded.

“You can’t stop me from leading the charge beyond The Wall,” he swears again, stubborn as ever. “It’s my duty and I have to do it with or without your blessing.”

Dany can’t help but laugh. She truly has met her match in Jon, for she’s never known another man so set on arguing with her. This is one fight she isn’t willing to lose, but she’s happy to let the matter drop for the moment. All her problems seem smaller from the safety of Jon’s arms. From here she can almost pretend there isn’t a war at all. Just she and Jon on some ill-fated Northern holiday.  _If only that were true._

She nods amiably at him, pressing her forehead against his and closing her eyes. “As you command, My King.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Drop a comment if you liked it :)


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